When A Sword Cries Revised
by Marwynn
Summary: A story of the trials and tribulations of those who lived and died during the Clan Invasion. Chapter 3: Falcon is now up!
1. Foreword

It's been months since I started my lil venture into fanfiction, and I've learned a few things here and there, and I'm still learning.   
  
So, I thought instead of just continuing on, even with all the mistakes, I decided to start over with a clean slate. For one, it will be more accurate regarding canon events. Two, I was able to implement many of the suggestions from my first foray (hopefully, I succeeded in that).   
  
Any thing at all, from the style to the story itself, to even typos are welcome. It is after a learning experience for me.   
  
So here goes...  



	2. Horizon

_ "It is good to have an end to journey towards, but it is the journey that matters, in the end." _   
Ursula Le Guin   
  
**  
Prologue - Horizon   
**  
_  
0542 Hours, January 5 3051   
Waseda Hills, Luthien   
Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine   
_  
  
Shin Barley gazed at the morning sky of the planet known as the Black Pearl, unable to tear himself away from the blazing sight for more than a few seconds.   
_  
Crimson.   
_  
Even with the tinges of orange and yellow from the choking smog of the planet, the sky was blood red. I suppose the Dracs think that's a good omen, Shin pondered grimly as he visually scanned the 'Mechs in his lance. But within moments he was staring back at the sky.   
  
Regular scout chatter over the comms suddenly died down as individual MechWarriors made impromptu reports of their own. Overhead, streaks of fire glinted in the morning sun, burning towards the Tairakana Plains and ever higher.   
  
Shin, already staring at the haunting sky of Luthien, was one of the few who saw the first visible casualties of the aerobattle; a Clan fighter fell to the predations of two Kuritan Slayers, twisting the advanced machine into a burning shower of debris. A subdued cheer was raised by the mercenaries, but as the aerobattle moved on, the comm lines were once again dominated by scouts and their constant reports of enemy strength and movement.   
  
Mere specks now, even with the magnification equipment afforded to a modern soldier, none of the mercenaries saw the two celebrated Slayers break off unmolested from the swirling melee and angle towards the known landing zones of the Clanners and slam into a wall of fire from a Nova Cat trinary. From champions to statistics in heartbeats.   
  
Moving his lance on the most defensible terrain he could spot, Barley kept an eye out for the other lances in the company. Dresden's fire support lance was well behind them and Arroyo's command lance was forming a line alongside them. Captain Magda Arroyo trusted in her lance commanders, keeping silent as her Lieutenants issued orders to their lances, taking the best positions as they hunkered down for the storm.   
  
The distant thunder of weapons fire shook the settling complacency out of the mercenaries. Fragmented reports of massive Clan losses from a single trap were punctuated by reports of renewed pushes as the Combine forces grudgingly gave ground.   
  
On and on it went for hours. The Combine regiments hurled themselves time and time again against the Clanners and each time the Smoke Jaguars and Nova Cats regrouped and pushed forward. The rumbling thunder was rolling ever nearer.   
  
Shin was in the middle of another systems check for his entire lance for the umpteenth time when the comm lines exploded. The 1st Sword of Light, Otomo, 2nd Legion of Vega, and the Genyosha had been overrun. Glancing at his chronometer, Shin cursed in admiration. _1102 hours… They started when? 0815? Blake strike me down if I ever mock a Sna—Kuritan again._   
  
Orders were passed to again keep radio chatter down as advanced scouts radioed in the Clan advance. Pockets of resistance were being swept aside as the shattered DCMS regiments made the Clanners pay for every footfall towards the Imperial City.   
  
His lance stationed in the fringes of the left flank, Shin could do nothing but wait. He found himself staring back up at the red hued sky and wondered solemnly, _Who was it that wrote 'As above, so below... into the fires we go'?_   
  
  
***   
_  
  
1237 hours, January 5 3051   
Waseda Hills, Luthien   
Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine   
_  
  
Shin pushed his old _Enforcer ENF-4R_ forward, working the pedals in its cockpit furiously as he danced between swirls of LRMs. A few missiles clanged against his machine, but not enough faze the grizzled Barley. Smoke obscured his vision, but it wasn't not enough to hide his prey; a battered_ Vulture_ OmniMech dragging its shattered right leg behind it.   
  
Frustrated by its relentless hunter, the Clan 'Mech fired pulses from one of its double barrelled arms, piercing the smoke with coherent light. Armour evaporated from the Enforcer's left torso and Shin fought against, and then rode the force of so much armour being lost and continued forward.   
  
Bringing his own laser to bear, Shin let loose a silent whoop as the beam hit home, severing the _Vulture_'s right arm and leaving the double-barrelled limb clanging on the ground. Already fighting the crippling of one leg, the loss of the arm strained the pilot's capabilities even further. The _Vulture_ staggered once and almost regained its footing.   
  
Almost.   
  
To Shin's right, a_ Shadow Hawk_ nudged the situation past the edge of the pilot's skill with a full alpha strike. Missiles and autocannon shells hammered the OmniMech, forcing it down as if a hand of fire and smoke were swatting it to the ground.   
  
Shin didn't bother to look for a command couch, not that he would've been able to see one in the grey inferno they had raised. Instead, he moved his _Enforcer_ forward and kicked off the _Vulture_'s twisted right leg just in time to see a flash in his communications panel.   
  
He knew without reading the message what the orders were. _Fall back. Regroup. Reload. Wait._ Signalling to his force to form on him, a rag-tag reinforced lance of mercenaries and Kuritans, Shin counted up the 'Mechs and noticed one missing. Scanning the immediate area across all bands a BattleMech can, the fate of the missing Dragoon dawned on him at the sight of his XO's _Shadow Hawk_ crushing the _Vulture_'s cockpit with its armoured heel.   
  
_Sonuvabitch…_   
  
It took a few seconds to get the _Shadow Hawk_ pilot to stop kicking, not that Shin tried hard to, but it took more to get its pilot to start moving again. The force of seven 'Mechs, now five mercenaries and two Kuritans, traced a path back to the nearest repair silo. No one dared to speak as they walked past the corpses of broken gods, each offering their own silent prayers and curses for every fallen 'Mech.   
  
Shin paused briefly at the site of his lance's first stand, along with the Dragoon company he was attached to. Sylvia Arroyo fought a magnificent defensive battle, but she was, in the end, outmaneuvered by the Clan 'Mechs that poured out from the Tairakana Plains in an unceasing wave.   
  
A flanking action made by a lance of 2nd Legion of Vega survivors siphoned off enough pressure for his lance to push through and link up with them but Dresden's lance of twin _Archers_ and _Griffins_ refused to budge; _the GRF-1N_s could've made it, Shin was sure, but that would have meant leaving the two _Archers_ behind and that meant that it wasn't an option.   
  
The lance died as they fought, side by side in a line abreast formation in a fighting withdrawal until, apparently, they were surrounded. It was with bitterness that Shin used their graves as a landmark to turn west into a small valley hiding a small Mobile Field Base.   
  
"Close up the distances people, I don't want anyone getting lost in this haze."   
  
Expecting little enemy contact this far behind enemy lines, in between the remnants of the Combine line and far from the centre of the mercenary lines, Shin didn't react fast enough to the sudden presence of a Clan OmniMech that had earned itself the reputation for tenacity in the hours of fighting on Luthien.   
  
The _Nobori-nin_'s left arm spat fire, sending shells tearing through the tatters of armour on the _Enforcer_'s right arm. Shin's own autocannon managed to survive intact, but the lower actuator was shattered, sending his return fire churning nothing but dirt and debris.   
  
Snapping off a quick shot with his laser, Shin drew a gash into the _Nobori-nin_'s scarred right flank, sending droplets of armour into the ground. Shouts from his lancemates went unheeded as he continued his duel until a massive explosion to his left forced him to take notice. All Shin saw were the legs of a 'Mech planted firmly into the ground, spewing smoke where a BattleMech once was.   
  
Barley's mind barely registered the loss of Lisa Frye, his own XO, but it sickened him that he was more worried about the loss of the _SHD-2H_ as more contacts blipped onto his radar screen. _It's a friggin' Trinary…_   
  
Working the panel of his comm suite with his left hand, Shin danced around the banner-bearing 'Mech until he finished stringing together a warning. _RepSilo 071. NC Trinary. _  
  
_I just hope there's someone left to take the message, _Shin thought humourlessly as another explosion washed over his 'Mech. A smile crept up into his face as both he and the Nobori-nin pilot paused and stared at a _Grand Dragon_ standing defiantly over the smouldering remains of a _Thor_. He grinned even wider as he recognized the 'Mech belonging to that of an old friend.   
  
His partner had enough of the delay and sent another burst of of autocannon fire to accompany a missile salvo already in the air. Shin ducked his _Enforcer_ underneath the streaming missiles and gritted his teeth as he walked right into the _Nobori-nin_'s trap.   
  
The two 'Mechs sailed past each other as they rose on plumes of fire. Another salvo from Shin's autocannon tore the 'Mech's right arm, but not before the shell's pierced the _Nobori-nin_'s metal hide to find a half-empty ammunition bay in its left torso. The force of the explosion rocked the OmniMech as it vented fire and shrapnel behind it, but the Clan 'warrior didn't even stagger as he raised his _Nobori-nin_'s triple-barrelled right arm.   
  
The Clan 'Mech's right shoulder was the last thing Shin saw as the arm erupted in light and washed over his _ENF-4R_. Warning klaxons drowned his consciousness as he felt his 'Mech buckle under the fusillade. The numbers '119' was burnt in his mind's eye as he slipped into darkness.   
  
Shin didn't see his old friend charge to his rescue, a scene with which he had become accustomed to years ago, belching fire and light from his 'Mech to rush at his fallen side. The _Grand Dragon_ defied all that stood before him, but though his will was great, the metal was weak. When he awoke, night had already settled and he was already in a hospital bed.   
  
A bed beside him lay his old friend. Damaged. Bruised. Breathing. Barely.   
  
Still grinning like an idiot.   
  
The instruments around him started whirring and beeping. Nurses, stained with long hours of work, started calling for a doctor as Shin noticed his old friend's eyes were losing their steel blue-green edge.   
  
Shin felt it was as good a time as any. "You just had to be a hero, didn't you Hiro?"   
  
The sound of a good friend's laughter graced Shin's ears one last time."  
  
  
  
***   
_  
"In a world where duty is a mountain and death is but a feather, I fear we have created a mountain of feathers."_   
Gunji no Kanrei Theodore Kurita (after the Battle of Luthien) Memoirs of a Samurai, New Samarkand Press, 3072   
  
  
_  
0345 hours, January 6 3051   
Near the Imperial Palace, Luthien   
Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine_   
  
  
"Today, we bury our dead. For that is all that we can do now. We, who have served beside them, have fought with them, have embraced them as not only comrades, but as friends, we are the ones that must not forget. Not the civilians who watched from afar, nor the students who will study this Battle. No, they do not know the price that was paid for Luthien's freedom. The divine willing, they shall never know it."   
  
"We bury our comrades, here on the soil they fought to protect and I ensure you all that all those within the Dragon's embrace will honour them for all time. Yet, my comrades and my friends, they will not be the last to die in this war. We have struck a blow that has sent these invaders reeling, yet it is not fatal. Before the end of this war, we may yet have to gather in a meeting like this." Solemnly, Theodore Kurita stepped down from the small podium in front of hundreds of mercenaries and samurai and walked towards a serenel lake.   
  
Holding a hand made paper crane in his hands, the Kanrei knelt and gently placed the crane on the water. Those gathered followed Theodore's lead and placed their own hand made cranes onto the lake. One crane for one dead.   
  
_So many cranes…_ brooded Theodore as he stifled some macabre hope that perhaps there were overlaps and there may be two or more cranes for one person.   
  
They stood there, on the bank of a hidden lake used for centuries by Kuritan children as a water-playground – a place of innocence – and silently mourned the lost. Tears fell from the eyes of many, as many from normally-stoic samurai as well from the gaijin mercenaries, yet Theodore knew he could not join them. He could not show weakness in front of so many.   
  
As the ceremony ended, a servant approached the Kanrei and spoke a simple message, "He did not survive, Theodore-sama." Sighing greatly, the man-who-should-be-Coordinator took a simple piece of paper, folded it delicately and gingerly held it as he walked back towards the lake.

Many of the gathered warriors were already on their way to leave when they saw the Kanrei returning with another crane. Some warriors could no longer contain their grief and an outpouring of muffled sobs and quickly wiped-away tears followed in Theodore's wake.   
  
_Rest, my friend Hiro. You are in exceptional company. Go to her and let your children be my worry; you have done more than enough._   
  
With that offered prayer and promise, the Kanrei felt tears moistening his cheeks.   
  
Theodore made no move to dry them.


	3. Harbour

_A ship is safe in harbor-- but that's not what ships are for. _

- John A. Shedd

**Chapter 1 – Harbour**

_January 11, 3051_

_Elusian City_

_Kalifax continent, Nirasaki_

_Al Na'ir Prefecture, Draconis Combine_

Rain thrummed on the windows of a large building overlooking a bustling city. Buildings, some influenced by the japanese ancestry of House Kurita, stood solemnly in the storm. The town's citizens, not minding the rain, went about their daily business, unhastened by the downpour.

Teak and glass were washed alike as sunlight, peeking through clouds, glinted off the wet steel structures. Inside the skyscraper, Ethan could see the smudged cityscape of Elusian and watched its people go on with their daily lives. Behind him, a holoprojector softly hummed, repeating the final moments of the annual Hiyake solar yacht race which Ethan, as the eldest noble of the planet was forced to preside over. He still wore the ceremonial robes uncomfortably, wondering if the stench of all the visiting nobles would be washed away by the rain.

A serene voice creaked out behind Ethan. "You didn't come here to enjoy the view, nephew, so let me hear it already so that I may say no."

It didn't come out as a question. "He's dead." Ethan had already known the answer, and kept staring at the window pane, hearing as much as seeing. 

The old man sighed and moved closer to the younger man as he placed his right hand on his shoulder. He stared sideways at the Ethan's oddly coloured blue-green eyes, the Morimoto eyes, the very same eyes the old man had, as it watched every raindrop splatter on the transparent steel pane. "I will miss him." 

The words were not unexpected, but Ethan shivered nonetheless. He nodded once, more of a small bow and looked at a mirror reflection of what could be. "Then this planet is yours, uncle." Ethan whispered, "Treat it better than my father had."

"But you are—"

"—not an adminstrator." Ethan finished.

Takeshi Morimoto nodded and watched his nephew walk away, fidgeting in his silken robes. No tears were on his face as Ethan walked purposefully, and politely, forward but the rain streaking on the windows of his office traced all the teardrops he needed. It was not of sadness. But joy.

He waited until the doors shut behind his nephew and for the light above the doorway to turn green; Nirasaki produced many electronics, not the least of which were highly advanced security and privacy systems. Takeshi let a smile on his face as he sat down in his large leather chair and flicked on his vidphone to a caller already on the line.

"Oyabun, I have some delightful news…"

For a moment, Takeshi believed that the man staring back at him was the oyabun of the largest yakuza faction on the planet. It took mere seconds for him to realize the shape of the man's face was unfathomably wrong and it took less than that to recognize the synthesized facial expressions and voice. 

_A simulation?…_

It was all the time that was needed to keep Takeshi's eyes away from his office's wide windows, not that he would have seen it coming through the thickening rain. The rocket had a very truncated flare, barely visible to even most military grade sensors, let alone the human eye. It was the assassin's weapon of choice against heavily shielded targets, and the office of the Blue Heron's CEO certainly counted as one.

The explosion sent burnt glass hurtling outwards into the streets below as thick plumes of smoke fed the cloudy sky. The building would not crumble, but it was decapitated. Its fires were quickly quenched by the renewed downpour of rain.

On the ground, Ethan walked away from the Blue Heron Kalifax plaza and into his waiting hovercar. Carrying no umbrella, he let his face be streaked with hard rain and soft tears. 

***

_January 16, 3051_

_Morimoto Palace_

_Kalifax continent, Nirasaki_

_Al Na'ir Prefecture, Draconis Combine_

The holovision hummed silently as it cycled through all the news channels. Ethan couldn't find a single one not still talking about his uncle's death. Ten years ago, Ethan mused, it would've been explained away as a gas leak or a lightning strike and the people would've believed it, in public that is. Now, the liberized media was beside itself in ecstasy at finally having the chance to dish all the Kuritan dirt it could find.

_Politely of course_. That annoyed Ethan to no end. A Davion or Marik political show was always hot, always entertaining; tempers raged, fists smashed and voices never below a shout. Though Kuritan political shows were springing up left and right not a single one had a guest willing to raise his voice above that of a conversational level. Rivals and even complete enemies would smile and sit side by side as they explained their viewpoint once again in as polite as possible way they can.

Angered suddenly, Ethan hurled the remote through the holographic projection of a political analyst's head from Altair and cringed as he heard the inevitable crack of the remote control echoed in his small corner of the palace. _I'm making some progress at least_, Ethan noted with a grin. _Fourth remote control in as many days and at least now the holovision interprets it as an 'Off' command._

Sighing to himself, Ethan slumped back into the couch and opened a familiar looking box. Inside revealed another remote control, a Lotus RC model 223, already attuned to his HV, and nonchalantly threw the box aside. It landed in a pile of three other boxes forming a small heap.

A few moments later, it was a pile of five boxes. 

Savouring his sixth HV remote control, not that he couldn't buy any more - he just didn't want to leave his home to do so, Ethan flicked through the news channels again, this time in a slower pace. Not a single one even tried to tie him to the assassination. _Is that why I'm watching these idiots? Because I want them to suspect me?_ Ethan lowered his head. _ Because I should be locked away or executed? Because I ordered it. _He repeated that to himself. _I ordered it._

_I did it._

Ethan blinked.

"I did it." The room was silent now, the HV muted. "I did it. I killed my uncle." His voice sounded hollow, uncaring. He poured more emotion into his confession. "I did it!" Somehow, the satisfied tinge in his voice felt wrong. _I don't know why I should feel anything for that traitor…_ _No remorse, he deserves none._ Finally, Ethan came to an understanding between his warring thoughts.

"He deserved it. I killed him. I loved him." Ethan admitted slowly, "He was more of a father to me…", and he paused, glancing at a sheet of paper crumpled on the floor, "But he needed to be killed." The justification sounded hollow again, in his ears and in his mind.

But it had to do for now. 

It was day again when Ethan roused himself from the couch. The night had been spent on the vidphone, speaking with his acquaintances, his trustworthy ones. Ethan didn't remember falling asleep, but he remembered it was after the palace's major domo delivered a handwritten note personally to him. Servants had come in the night to clean the mess he had made, like always, despite his orders and protestations. It took a few minutes for him to stand and steady himself, sake was heavy on his breath.

Bending over to pick up the discarded note, Ethan read it again. It began, '_With our sincerest apologies, the Sun Zhang Academy has revoked your enrollment Morimoto-san. _Ethan kept reading, wondering at how hateful the writer of the letter must have been to write a letter so bluntly. _ You have been credited for the completion of your second year at the top of your class,_ Ethan sniggered,_ however circumstances have forced the faculty to re-evaluate your place amongst this establishment. Your belongings will be sent to your place of residence.' _

Without active though, Ethan shredded the letter piece by piece, savouring each tear. _Not even an offer for a letter of recommendation if I want to transfer to another school… Even washouts get that small courtesy. _"'I know when I'm not wanted.'" Ethan smiled, as he finished the phrase in his head, _'And I know when I'm needed.'_

Ethan opened the door of his small sanctuary and walked into a small indoor garden. A younger man was going through motions with his sword, and Ethan usually paid him little heed. But today was a new day, after all, and another letter, this time folded properly weighed heavily in his pocket. His brother sensed his approach and dutifully stopped practicing and lowered his head. Ethan was sure it wasn't deferrential.

Soberly. "Jin… Junjin. Brother, I have news." That got the younger man's attention. It had been a long time since he called his younger brother anyhing but 'Jin'. Ethan was always wary of his too eager little brother, even as children. It wasn't the naked calculations in his eyes, or the abrasive way he handled himself or his sword. It was… _something_. Instinct, some may call it.

But Ethan never let that show, and he wasn't about to now. He handed the carefully worded letter and let his youngest sibling read it. "Our eldest brother Kiyoshi was tasked to lead a counter attack made up of elements from shattered Pesht units." Ethan paused, weighing the eyes of his brother. Already he could see the machinations, the formation of gloats that would be repeated ad naseum to everyone within earshot, the potential gain of prestige and honour.

"He failed."

Like a spoiled child denied his wish, Junjin flared and almost lunged at Ethan until he saw the utter remorse in Ethan's face. Mistaking the look for their eldest, gentle brother, Junjin backed down apologetically. They both knew what failure still meant to most of the DCMS officers.

"We have lost so much, Ethan… " Junjin started, and corrected himself, "… so many people. It's just us now, isn't it? You, Nara, and me." Ethan looked away from his brother, drowning out his words and failing. It wasn't the grief of loss that strangled him, it was the loss of this man. Even when he tried to be compassionate, Junjin came off as still calculating. Still cold. 

"It's my fault." Ethan cursed the sake for his lapse in control, blaming it instead of his conscience. "No—not Kiyoshi's…" Ethan sighed deeply and inhaled the calmness of the garden.Wheeling around, what Ethan saw sickened him. Maybe it was the sake, maybe it was the clarity the garden imparted. Or maybe it was insanity, but Ethan could almost picture his little brother saying 'One down, two to go' with the expression he saw on Junjin's face. "It's my fault that you're you. Not mother's, certainly not father's or Kuyoshi's. I raised you, and I've been an arrogant bully to you, lording myself over you because you weren't as quick with your hands."

Ethan waved away Jin's response. "I'm not done. Our… father realized that you were the smartest amongst us. I was jealous of that," Ethan added quickly, "when I was younger. But I've pitied you ever since." He let that sink in. "You've turned into a weasel, Junjin. A calculating little Steiner bitch." That insult would have provoked a fight with any other samurai in the Combine. The odds be damned, insults like that needed to be answered, especially one so easily given.

Junjin did nothing, even armed with a fine blade, he did nothing but stood there and took it.

The now-eldest brother shook his head, "You have the wrong kind of courage, brother. You make shadowed moves into the Blue Heron and Steel Wind Communes using our wealth and pay off or threaten authorities to come at your aid as the Communes scream for your blood. You pick fights with Unproductives, _eta_!, and you kill them for your wrongs. Brother, you are lost to us."

Anger swelled within Junjin. No, not anger. Desperation. "Is that the great Ethan's proclamation then? The great Morimoto who scored higher than even our grandfather and was accepted into the Sun Zhang at an early age and kicked out even earlier?" Ethan showed no reaction to that bit of news that was supposed to be private. "The great brother who disowned his own sister for getting pregnant by a member of the yakuza? The great warrior of the Nirasaki Militia that put down a riot just last year while he was on his summer vacation? A riot that the great citizen incited himself?" 

Junjin spat. "'Brother'? You have the gall to call me 'brother'? You, who tortured me for years! Years, Ethan! Your namecalling, your constant humiliations, your never ending critiques at every thing that I do. Oh yes, Ethan, I know! It's only because I do it the wrong way! I have the wrong skills, the—the wrong courage!" Jin gripped his katana with a tight fist.

Ethan nudged him further by glancing at the grip and giving a slight disapproving shake of the head; enough that Jin could see it. "You've never been anything but an ungrateful and selfish bastard! Who was it that kept this planet from falling under those scheming Communes' rule? Who kept it under our family's direct control? Certainly not the avid whore-chaser, the bastard-maker from what the tabloids say of you."

"You looked at me once as a child and decided I wasn't good enough to be your brother, didn't you Ethan? That I didn't measure up to your idea of a brother?" Junjin's sword was quivering. "That I wasn't good enough to be a Morimoto?!" 

With a smile, "You still aren't, Junjin." Ethan turned away and retreated back into his sanctuary, slamming the door at a charging Junjin with his sword upraised. _I'm sorry, brother. I can't do anything else for you other than this…I hope you're as wise as you think you are._ Ethan ignored the indignant fists slamming at the reinforced door._ This planet has eaten our family whole. It took generations, but it has, and the eldest gets to stand the last stand and fight the last fight. _

The thumping turned into sharp echoes as an enraged Junjin turned to his katana to try and cut through. _Go find Nara, brother… She's better than all of us, and she can still help you._

Walking to a small panel on the wall, Ethan flicked a small switch. The noise stopped, but the attacks didn't; Ethan could still feel the sword smashing itself blunt against his door. He waited a few suicidal seconds and then finally clicked a button and only then was the door truly locked. A simple twist of the doorknob would've reduced Ethan into bloody ribbons. M_any thhings left to learn, Jin… _

Ethan waited a few more minutes until the beating on his door stopped and dialed a friend on his portable vidphone. "Marcus, it's me. Be a good _son_ and tell your _father_ that I would like to speak with him at his earliest convenience." The man in the small screen smiled and nodded once, and brushed his militia uniform clean before cutting off the connection. The young Morimoto shrugged to himself, _If the Kanrei can trust the yakuza, why can't I?_

***

_January 17, 3051_

_Several kilometres from Elusian City_

_Kalifax continent, Nirasaki_

_Al Na'ir Prefecture, Draconis Combine_

"You can't trust the yakuza, isn't that what you always told me?" Marcus quoted, grinning knowingly, showing off his perfect white teeth again.

Ethan nodded and broke into a smile, showing his own. The two had lost most of their natural teeth years earlier when their own solar yacht slammed into a standing meteorite. "I also used to say you were smarter than me… I have been known to be wrong, you know." The two shared an easy laugh having exchanged nearly the same kind of conversation for years. Tonight was no different, and the fact that they were walking though a maze of hallways of a yakuza stronghold changed little in their behaviour. 

"Nara's doing fine, Ethan." Marcus confided, "She's increased the intensity of her training again… she thinks having that baby softened her up." Unconsciously, Marcus rubbed his ribs, which were apparently sore.

It was turn for Ethan to grin knowingly. "I grew up with her, didn't I? She used to throw me through our dojo's walls… Buddha help anyone who pisses Nara off." A few silent moments passed. "How's the baby doing?"

"She has her mother's right hook." The pair laughed again, but stopped as they rounded a corner. From this point on, they would walk in silence. Proper respect needed to be maintained and displayed. After all, not everyone could get an audience with the head oyabun of Nirasaki in such short notice and it would not do to ruin it by idle talk. 

The walk took longer than Ethan remembered as he slowed his pace to appreciate the subtlety in which the hallways were designed. It was as if each piece of wood, each bit of cloth and plant was arranged in the only possible manner they could be. Nirasaki birch, a highly prized – and priced – item was featured prominently on the walls. The birch alone in this 'home' could secure anyone a small personal DropShip and charter a JumpShip for several years. 

Marcus left Ethan's side as they neared an unassuming door in the midst of grander ones. Ethan waited a few moments before the door opened and bowed his head, a bow to a superior, at the aged man before him. He wasted little time, not caring much for the Kuritan, or rather Japanese, tradition of approaching a topic through oblique conversation. That suited Ethan just fine.

"Why have you come here, young, or rather, eldest Morimoto?" The oyabun spoke with a flawless japanese accent. "Surely you did not lose another sibling in a deck of bad cards?"

Ethan showed no surprise at the oyabun's display of information; he had stopped being surprised after his first visit years ago. Now he just assumed the oyabun knew everything he did, at least. "No, sir," a calculated move, to call the oyabun only a 'sir'."I have come to ask if you have been having much trouble with the _family_ on Ouanii," the continent which the Blue Heron Commune was based in, "as I believe we may share the same troubles."

The old man moved with a grace that he seldom displayed and stood up in a fluid manner. "Enough of this dancing around, Ethan. I came to power by following the traditions of our shared culture, but neither of us actually belong in them, do we?" When he received no response from the younger man, he continued. "I have lost a friend, you an uncle, and you wish to turn this unfortunate event into a possibility of finally ridding this world of my only rival and deflecting all the blame from your family for the decline of our once-utopia in one move."

Ethan shrugged. "That's the gist of it."

The elder man eyed him for several long minutes. Gauging his soul, weighing his heart, or wondering if Ethan's mind was completely and utterly broken for even suggesting such a thing. "They will find evidence… a dead assassin from Ouanii. Your uncle's friendship with me is well known, if seldom mentioned." For a moment, the older man was saddened. In a dismissive wave, he murmured to Ethan. "The news reporters will piece the rest together, if they would stop yammering."

For the second time in as many weeks, Ethan found himself walking in the rain to his car. The yakuza faction of Ouanii would be wiped out, the power struggle by the yakuza infiltrators in the government from both the Kalifax and Ouanii families would end and Nirasaki would be at peace with itself again. And for the second time in weeks, Ethan was glad that the rain hid his tears.

I don't know what the hell's wrong with FF.net, but it won't format the locations properly. There's a properly formatted version over at if it bothers you to read it like this. 

A little slow in pace, and in coming, so I apologize. Thanks for the emails people!


	4. Buddha

**Buddha's Hoard, Elusian City, Nirasaki   
Al Na'ir Prefecture, Dieron Military District   
Draconis Combine   
February 13, 3051   
**  
  
"I don't care if the drinks _are_ free, I wanna watch the last Solaris match!"   
  
Ethan shook the sleep from his eyes, pumping blood to his limbs and ears to listen to the slight man on the bar with a strange accent. The two women in his arms were roused by his movements, and they started giggling again just like before they fell asleep. Ethan didn't catch what the obviously _gaijin_ man said next, but he managed to catch the elderly bartender's apology as the young man flailed his arms about.   
  
"Forgiveness, please, sir." He bowed deeply. "But the matches on Solaris VII are not transmitted to this world--to any world in the Draconis Combine." The old man leaned closer to the sandy-haired foreigner. "It is forbidden to even mention them."   
  
A red haired youth raised his empty bottle into the sky, screaming in japanese. "_Hey! You! My drink is drunk, stop lying to that Lyran dandy and get me another bottle!"_   
  
Bowing all the while, the bartender replied with "Hai, hai!" as he scrambled for another bottle of sake. Ethan poured himself a new glass from his table's bottle, which was never allowed to become empty, and watched the spindly, apparently Lyran, intercept the bottle from as the bartender reached the red haired man's table.   
  
It didn't take particularly sharp eyes to notice that both the brown and red haired men were MechWarriors. Each had the healthy swagger of a 'Mech jock, the self-assuredness and a deadly grace to their movements. Of course, Ethan had the advantage in that he knew the red haired youth was a MechWarrior of House Kurita even if he didn't carry himself as a samurai or even look the part. Compared to the Lyran, Edward Brody was even skinnier and less physically pronounced.   
  
The young Morimoto watched passively as the Lyran plopped himself down on seat near his newest militia recruit and smiled as they locked eyes. _Like a Wolfhound against a Panther..._ He reconsidered. _Or a Stinger against a Wasp..._   
  
The Lyran's grey eyes glinted in the subdued sunlight. "_Let me pour you a drink friend,_" startling even Ethan as the gaijin spoke in accented but clear japanese. "_It's on me. Now tell, what did you mean by the bartender 'lying' to me?_"   
  
Brody's quick hands snatched the glass from the stranger, spilling a few drops on the table. In drawling standard, "You heard me wrong, Elsie."   
_  
"The name is Tomas."   
_  
Ethan would forever replay the next few moments in his mind's eye, going over it as slowly as his memories would allow. He had never been able to catch the Tomas' hands until both materialized on poor Brody's face, crunching Edward's long nose with his right and the jaw with his left.   
  
He did remember, and never let Tomas forget, what happened next. Two off-duty corporate security guards to Ethan's left immediately withdrew their pistols, frustrated perhaps by long hours of boredom, and didn't even bother demanding the 'Elsie' to back down as they aimed for his centre mass.   
  
Ethan was on his feet, tackling the nearest one as the first shots rang off, thrown clear wide as he and his new-found hugging partner toppled over the table.   
  
Tomas had closed in, using the fallen MechWarrior as a launching pad as he leapt, arms wide, atop the three Kuritans. The brawl was one in the truest sense of the word, with the bar erupting into chaos with civilians, offduty militiamen and even a few eta lending feet, teeth and fists into the swirling melee.   
  
Ethan rolled to the side, kicking away some uniformed cretins, as he put his back to a wall. At the corner of his vision, he saw the two fine ladies that had helped him celebrate dance to the edge of the battle. They were still giggling.   
  
A kick, a slight chop and a reverse-throw had him in the centre of the fight where there was a Lyran doing a good impression of a fearsome warrior. Several of the less combat-trained brawlers were already backing away, but Ethan saw through the facade._ He's playing it well, growling and yelling like some viking! Hahaha, I think I like this---oooff!_   
  
"Hey!! I'm _helping_!" Ethan roared, kicking one of the Lyran's shins in return for his own now-bruised one.   
  
"Ahh damnit! I said I was sorry!" Tomas spat back.   
  
Ethan twisted away from a fairly large civilian and planted an open palm into the face of one wielding a chair leg. "No you didn't!"   
  
"Pardon me! I'm kinda busy!" Tomas hurled himself at two dishevelled looking fighters, knocking both over in a tangle of dirty clothes and alcohol soaked hair.   
  
"I didn't notice!" yelled the young Morimoto as he ducked away again and spin-kicked at the nearest brawler to gain some room. He took the moment to assess the situation.   
  
The brawl was settling down, Ethan had seen it happen several times being a veteran of many such battles. Fights as furious as this one tend to need a constant fuel; an Elsie was a good appetizer, but homegrown grudges could fan a fight into a riot. Ethan identified workers from various businesses seeking out rivals, security guards and militiamen ganging up on each other and those just swept up in the moment seeking a quick escape.   
_  
Stragglers first_. A brawler wielding a broken bottle crashed down with a prominent imprint of Nirasaki militia standard issue boots on his cheek. He was followed by two more inebriated workers sharing the broken pieces of a table. In the midst of the fighting, Ethan realized he wasn't alone in his efforts. The crazy Lyran, still whooping and screaming and no longer the main target was lashing out alongside him. Tomas had gained a strange looking collar, probably the seat cover of one of the bamboo chairs and sported several bruises, but he had a smile on his face.   
  
It took a while for Ethan to realize he was smiling himself, even when two factory workers slammed their meaty fists into the sides of his head. He was down before he felt the blows.   
  
His ears were still ringing when more gunshots rang out. Ethan didn't even register them as gunshots, thinking the two fat labourers had found his head again as he was sprawled on the floor. "Damn, fat sons of Davions... I should cut off your rations..."   
  
The second set of gunshots Ethan did hear, the one firing the weapon was standing right above him; a uniformed - slightly blurred - beauty. It took a while for his vision to clear back up, he heard some german-sounding cursing in the background as he was pulled to his feet by a young dark-haired female police officer. She wore her hair tight, her features even softer in the bar's sparse light and her figure greatly enhanced by several litres of alcohol, the young noble found it hard to resist trying to 'charm' the lady.   
  
"Hey luscious, how does a hundred C-bills and a half hour with the cuffs sound?"   
  
In retrospect, as he found himself on the floor again with at least two new bruises, Ethan believed he should expressed himself more eloquently. Or perhaps not at all.   
  
He could hear the laughter of the subdued fighters as he flickered through blackness and consciousness. _What the hell... I got an audience, don't I?_   
  
"Alright," Ethan licked his lips, "a hundred and fifty."   
  
The next blow from the female officer made everyone gathered wince in sympathy.   
  
----   
  
**  
Here, Somewhere   
Morning?   
**  
  
"You know, I don't think I did say 'sorry' about kicking ya."   
  
Ethan's head throbbed, his throat felt like he swallowed bits of the same foamed aluminum that made up the bones of a 'Mech. What was the purple monkey saying to him? A few moments passed. Why was a purple monkey saying anything? Were there even purple monkeys? He opened his eyes slightly more. Or monkeys that talked for that matter?   
  
He opened his eyes even more, looking straight at someone familiar. "Dear Buddha, you're hideous." Ethan coughed, giggling at what he just said. This Lyran, this Tomas, was bathed with a thick, purple cream on his bruised face. It didn't matter that Ethan felt the same substance on his own wounds, it just shocked him to wake up staring at such a strange sight.   
  
Luckily, the Lyran had a sense of humour. "You're not so sexy yourself, gorgeous. Or should that be 'luscious'?" Ethan winced again as he felt that that particular area was free of the healing purple smudge.   
  
"Hey, it was supposed to be a 'Glorious Day of the Governor's Birth' wasn't it?" Ethan coughed again, pulling himself up from his bunk. "I mean, what's a birthday party without seeing some 'birthday suits', eh?"   
  
Tomas laughed at that, nodding his head. "I just wanted to catch the latest Sol-seven fight--"   
  
"--so you picked a fight with a MechWarrior instead."   
  
"I don't like redheads. Cocky bastards."   
  
Ethan laughed cautiously, feeling out his ribs for any pains. He ran his fingers through his hair and smacked his lips open a few times as he glanced around the cell. Kuritan jails were often goulags on most worlds, but on Nirasaki, where even an _eta_ can rent a kimono, dull grey wouldn't do. A clean white-wash was on the walls, offset by the dark green of the metal bars. The floors were an earthy brown, and without looking, Ethan could smell the presence of various potted plants in the cell.   
  
He flicked his head towards the plants. "They're supposed to be calming for the prisoners."   
  
Tomas nodded. "I didn't know Kuritans even bothered--"   
  
Ethan smiled, replying quickly to show he didn't take offense. "We usually don't, unless you can afford justice or did something minor." Tomas' eyebrows arched slightly. "Bar fights aren't 'minor' per se, but we were quite drunk. Least I was."   
  
The Lyran shrugged, and sat on the floor cross-legged. "Do... uhh, they bother feeding us?"   
  
"Depends."   
  
"On what?"   
  
"Whether the guards remember to or not," Ethan said dramatically. "But they usually do, it's in the planetary constitution. We're in luck."   
  
A few awkward moments passed. Ethan stood up and started to stretch but just stopped immediately as he saw the purple-cream all over his arms. He turned to Tomas, pointing at the purple mess on his forearms. "What do you think of our local bit of lostech, 'Tomas' isn't it? Call me Ethan."   
  
"Yeah, oh... well... It's, heh, it's very purple."   
  
The two laughed at that. "Should've been white," Ethan confessed, "but Nirasaki has this birch tree that has purple leaves." He shook his head, "That's where the main ingredient comes from, it turns out white when you make it yourself but the store-bought ones like selling them purple. They call it, appropriately enough, the Drunkard's Dressing."   
  
Tomas smiled and nodded his head. "They make it that way to stand out, to shame someone huh?"   
  
"Yep." Ethan winked at his cellmate, noting his sharp mind even when his own was a sea of grey and black. "Ironically enough, you need alcohol to get the colour out. If you're bleeding and real drunk, well heh, it turns clear." He pointed to a few patches over his arm that looked as if it were wet with water; thick, gelled water.   
  
The Lyran laughed out hard at that, wiping away a few tears. Ethan didn't think it was _that_ funny, but they both had been hit in the head a lot last night and he joined in.   
  
"I wasn't going to say anything," Tomas sniggered, "but most of the stuff on your face looks like you're bleeding water, man."   
  
They laughed again, Ethan holding his ribs to keep everything more or less in the same configuration. He remembered several fat fists making their impressions on his head as he momentarily drifted into darkness.   
  
A large metal door flung open, two uniformed figures hurrying over to their cell whispering to each other. Ethan recognized both immediately, but addressed the younger one first.   
  
"You know, when I proposed the use of handcuffs, you didn't really have to bring me all the way here, officer..."   
  
Tomas chimed in. "It was for a hundred and fifty," he shrugged, "might as well get your C-bill's worth. And I get to watch for free."   
  
The police officer was having none of it as she stepped closer to the bars. "Listen, you worthless drunks. You both are charged with assaulting officers in uniform, the magistrate will--"   
  
"--dismiss the case immediately and beg your forgiveness for the foolishness of this girl! Our sincerest apologies!" The older officer, resplendent in brass, stepped in, pushing the female officer away as he struggled to place his thumbprint on the reader.   
  
Ethan watched the rookie cop, an offworlder herself, try to form words. His cellmate was just as confused, but Tomas managed to appear that he knew what was going on. "Nonsense, Chief Suan. Your officer there managed to rescue us from a particularly nasty brawl wouldn't you say Tomas?" The Lyran nodded once, smiling.   
  
He cleared his throat, adopting a haughty, over-exaggerated tone that some visiting Lyran merchants adopted. Ethan saw Tomas recognize it. "I do say, she may have saved our lives what with everyone else already out of the fight," Ethan looked the shocked officer in the eyes. "She did, also, allowed us to partake of the state's hospitality for the evening. But I do think it may be time to get along."   
  
The bars of the cell withdrew into the walls, hidden from view. The two MechWarriors stepped out, dusting themselves off and shaking the hand of Chief Suan. Tomas wasn't even bothering hiding his confusion now, staring at Ethan's bruised and grinning face.   
  
Escorted out of the building by the two officers, again with another round of apologies, Ethan moved closer to the female officer. "Just for the record, Chief Suan, I'd like to know this officer's name."   
  
"Uhh, bwah, she's uhh, umm, Sergeant Felicia Noboro, from the Dieron constabulary office."   
  
Looking straight at Sgt. Noboro, Ethan adopted his smuggest face. "Please ask Sergeant Noboro that since we have no means of conveyance that perhaps she would be kind enough to escort us to my home. We do so feel _much _safer when she's around."   
  
"Umm, bwoohh, ahh yes. Ahem, Sergeant Noboro-"   
  
Felicia bit her lip, her eyes quivering with hatred. "_Hai_, Chief. I shall escort our guests home."   
  
"Good, good." Ethan nodded as they walked to her patrol car. Felicia moved to open the driver's seat and was stopped with a loud 'Ahem'. Both the former prisoners were staring oddly at the rear passenger doors, as if they had never seen one in all their life. Repressing her rage, she opened one door for Tomas and was preparing herself to do a curtsy for when she opened Ethan's until she realized he was no longer standing beside the car.   
  
He was sitting quite comfortably on the driver's seat, shaking the Chief's hand yet again, and whispering. "Thanks a lot, Frank."   
  
Chief Suan whispered low. "Ethan, Ethan, Ethan... when are you ever going to grow up?"   
  
Ethan whispered back indignantly, just loud enough for Tomas behind him to hear. "I have! I didn't even request she show me her, uhh, _badge_!" The Chief shook his head and grunted, as if saying '_Not yet, you mean._'   
  
Putting back on the aloof, smug mask, Ethan turned to the stationary sergeant. "Well don't just stand there Felicity--"   
  
"--Felicia--"   
  
"--Yes, yes, Fecia. Now, I gather that you are new on-world so I suppose you are not privy to local knowledge as of yet." Ethan flashed her a smile. "I'll drive, get in." He couldn't believe how silly he sounded, but Noboro was obedient if furious. It added a smouldering quality to her beauty.   
  
"Now where is the acceleratium and the deceleratrix, hmm?" Ethan asked airily as he gently, but firmly, squeezed the car's gas pedal till the speedometer registered 150 kph. Sgt. Noboro was already shouting commands to the foppish noble in attempt to not hit anyone on the road. Tomas suggested that he turn on the siren to move the peasants out of the way.   
  
Ethan thought it was a grand idea, and said so himself. He was sure he could hear the gritting of teeth over the wailing.   
  
---   
**  
Morimoto Manor, Nirasaki   
Al Na'ir Prefecture, Dieron Military District   
Draconis Combine   
February 14, 3051   
**  
  
The police car dragged a cloud of dust behind it as it screeched out of the manor's driveway, with Felicia gripping the steering wheel tightly enough for her knuckles to blaze white.   
  
Ethan shook his head and picked himself up, struggling not to rub his throbbing left cheek in front of his _gaijin_ guest. He yawned into his right hand and nodded to the front door, ignoring a large, obviously angry, older man standing in front of it.   
  
Tomas coughed. "I guess she wasn't _that_ charmed after all."   
  
Ethan nodded once and chuckled, rubbing his head now that his jaw was going numb. He took out a small clear bottle of pills and tossed them to Tomas. "Gets rid of hangovers and headaches quicker than coffee."   
  
Tomas nodded, realizing that this strange, obviously rich, Kuritan had managed to take one of the magic pills before setting off to drive - he couldn't even tell where he took the pills from. He chuckled as he still heard the police car's sirens wailing in the air: Ethan had _accidentally_ broke the siren controls, leaving it permanently on. Tomas swallowed one of the pills and waited until Ethan moved closer to the front door, not willing to put himself in front of the furious man.   
  
The two stared at each other for a while, neither exchanging any words until the bigger one spoke in a rumbling voice. "Who's the idiot in purple?"   
  
Ethan guffawed. "Relax Shin, this here is my partner in crime." Ethan motioned with his head, intentionally leaving out Tomas' name, allowing the Lyran the choice to reveal himself.   
  
For now, anonymity would suffice for Tomas; he kept silent and watched on as the bald headed man and Ethan spoke.   
  
"If you're finished with your partying, you should see to your new guests."   
  
Ethan arched an eyebrow. "New guests? What is this, the Nirasaki Hilton?" He waved to Tomas to follow him into the massive pagoda-style building, grinning all the while as Shin cast them both a steely glare.   
  
The Lyran must have just seen the building for the first time as the pills worked their wonders. It was old, ancient, but it looked sturdier than some of the government buildings he saw in Tharkad. His experienced eyes allowed him to pick up on the manor's heritage, a fomer fort - most likely Hegemony-vintage - converted to a domicile for the idle rich.   
  
Tomas ducked quickly into the manor, avoiding the large man, and eager to get a closer look at what Ethan called home. From his stance and manner of speaking, he judged the furious man to be a fellow countryman - at least in name - from the other half of the Federated Commonwealth, and another MechWarrior at that.   
  
His Kuritan host nodded as if reading his mind. "I do manage to find the most unusual guests. Why, five years ago both of you would probably have been gutted and propped up on stakes outside." He shook his head and winked. "Me befriending FedCom MechWarriors... This must be causing quite a scandal with the media."   
  
Tomas exchanged glances with Shin, wondering if Ethan was some sort of Kuritan holovid action-star. He certainly had the attitude, and a MechWarrior's personnae wasn't exactly hard to adopt. The flowing opulence of the foyer certainly reflected that theory.   
  
"And, as always, you are loving it. _Baka_." said a woman descending a spiraling set of stairs.   
  
Ethan's smile grew wide, recognizing the soft, slightly mocking voice instantly. "_Ane_," older sister, "what brings your fat, exiled butt home?"   
  
The mix of an endearing tone and hateful words made both smile, each remembering their sparring wordplay as children in a slightly different manner. Unlike most Kuritan noble children, none of the Morimotos had any qualms about displaying familial affection in front of strangers. In fact, Ethan's mother had encouraged it.   
  
Ethan wrapped his arms around his sister, feeling a sense of relief he hadn't felt in ages. "Nara, my sweet, fat Nara." She jabbed her fist into his hardened stomach, barely holding back despite Ethan's condition. If he felt anything, he didn't show it as both hugged each other again.   
  
Tomas grinned. The resemblance was striking between brother and sister, the same set of blue-green eyes was obvious, but so was the ease with which both handled themselves. Their poise. The Davion motioned to him, wanting to leave the siblings alone and both ducked out of the foyer unnoticed.   
  
The afternoon sun was already low in the sky when Ethan rejoined the two FedCom visitors relaxing in a large, open balcony. Both were speaking calmly, sipping drinks and trading bits of knowledge they had gleaned. The sky was aflame in orange and blue, below it was rolling grasslands and flowing rivers.   
  
It was serene.   
  
In his arms, Ethan held a baby, his niece, barely six months old and already had eyes as wide and as bright as her mother's. She laughed again, a slightly mischievous giggle that reminded him of her father. He peered closely to young Keiko's face. _Just what the Morimoto line needs, a funny, caring, rebellious, artistic and intelligent woman_. Ethan didn't know if he was speaking about the child or his late mother.   
  
Marcus followed Ethan to the veranda moments later, Nara clasped tightly to his arm. The two walked in just in time to see Keiko place a hand on Ethan's smiling face, promptly pulling Ethan's nose. Proudly, he thought, _Now that's a grip!_   
  
He whispered, his noise still in the baby's grip, just loud enough to be overheard, "Definitely your mother's daughter..."   
  
Marcus coughed at that, smiling slightly as the arm around his tightened even more. "Forgive the imposition we are placing on fellow guests and our host, but there is a matter to discuss--"   
  
Ethan didn't feel the first shot, he didn't even hear it. All he heard was the sound of flapping wings as he felt a warmth in him.   
  
He heard the report of the second, third, and fourth shots. His eyes were strangely looking upwards even as he was laying on his side gently hugging something soft. His mind was groggy for a seeming eternity, but he lay still and calmed himself.   
  
Ethan felt Keiko still in his arms but as the Star League fort-turned home's weapons seared the countryside, he wondered how he could hear the rasping of the massive guns and not the crying of a surely frightened baby.   
  
Over the chattering fire of the Manor's arsenal, he heard a familiar sound but couldn't place what it was. Warmth seeped from his chest, leaving him colder and colder as tears streaked through his face, washing away red. He remembered now: it was the same sobbing whimper that was carved into his memory so many years ago.   
  
Ethan shivered uncontrollably, as if physically restraining the flood of tears aching to pour out of him. His rocking somehow nudged what he was still hugging gently, freeing a soft arm that gently laid a palm on Ethan's face. It closed slightly on his nose, and he found the courage to open his eyes to look at a bloodsplattered, but unharmed, baby in his arms.   
  
Shin rushed to his side with the manor's guards following behind him, providing a wall of flesh as he dragged Ethan inside.   
  
The youngest Morimoto smiled at Ethan, still cradled in his arms. Worry still consumed him as he handed her back to her mother. "_Is she alright? Is she going to be okay?_"   
  
Nara nodded. "_She's going to be fine, Thanny..."   
  
"Are you sure? Check, you gotta check--_" Ethan freed himself from Shin and propped himself up.   
  
"Damnit Ethan! Stop moving!" Shin roared.   
  
"But Keiko! She's..."   
  
Tomas darted in close and grabbed Ethan by the shoulders. "Relax, Ethan, relax. The baby's fine... you're the one that got shot. Now lay still--"   
  
"--I got shot? No I didn't--Why must you lie?" His limbs moved quickly, unhinging Tomas's hold with ease. Everyone around him repeated the same thing. Why couldn't they understand that they needed to see to Keiko first?   
  
Tomas decided a more direct approach. He grabbed Ethan's head and pointed down into his bleeding chest. "There, do you believe me now?"   
  
Ethan shook his head. "How many holes--"   
  
"--Four!--"   
  
"--All of it?--"   
  
"--Yes!--"   
  
Ethan stopped struggling, realizing that there was a man holding down each of his limbs. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "So I got shot?" He wrinkled his forehead.   
  
"For the love of--YES!!!" The Commonwealthers roared one after another.   
  
He nodded once, looked up at Nara holding Keiko and smiled.   
  
"Thank, Buddha."

Sorry for the long wait in-between chapters, I actually went ahead and outlined what's to happen in future additions so hopefully the next one won't take that long.

Reviews are very much welcome at this point, and thanks to those of you who did bother to read this.


	5. Falcon

**Chapter 3  
  
Underwater, Blue Hole Hot Springs Command, former Lyran Commonwealth territory Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone  
  
February 27, 3052**  
  
Hauptmann Nolan Sundheim cursed out loud as his King Crab's left foot became entangled in a thick patch of the aggressive seaweed that populated Blue Hole's numerous ponds. Working with an ease that came from repeated actions, Nolan quickly signalled a halt as he gently unlatched his 'Mech's foot. He and his command had learned long ago not to just use the raw power of a BattleMech when they got caught in the undersea fauna.  
  
It wasn't like on the surface where a MechWarrior had complete control. Underwater, the slightest exaggeration could unbalance a multiton warmachine as its footing depended solely on the soft seabed. More than a company's worth of BattleMechs had been lost because of that ingrained reflex every MechWarrior had, perhaps Lyran pilots more so. A 'Mech would get caught, force itself free and usually float slowly on its back. If it was lucky, it would just crunch some armour. More often than not, it lead to flooded compartments, rending parts of the BattleMech completely useless.  
  
His battered command waited patiently, their 'Mech's arms akimbo to offset the force for any sudden movement they would need to take. Despite two years of constant warfare, not all of which was on Blue Hole, Nolan was proud of these MechWarriors he assumed command of.  
  
Free from the purplish seaweed, he continued their underwater march and entered an often-used channel. Blue Hole was aptly named, Nolan surmised, the world was dotted with deep ponds all networked by underground tunnels. From the surface, it was as if a very large lake or an ocean was dried out, leaving scattered puddles behind.  
  
The march continued without any more delays. Slow paced as it was, none of the MechWarriors had the luxury of free time. Each worked even harder to maintain a consistent gait, avoiding pitfalls, low ceilings, even schools of fish as they made their way to another pond. As a result, the pilots felt wonderfully free and powerful once they were surrounded by air again, or at least not water.  
  
Light shone dimly on the 'Mechs as they entered a particularly large pond. The Hauptmann waited until the silt drifted down again before signalling an advance. He primed his weapons, cycled fresh ammunition into his KGC-0000's claw-like arms and lead the advance. From the echoes he heard as each 'Mech entered their own designated tunnels to other ponds, Nolan knew his comrades were doing the same.  
  
---  
  
**Geizhu Plains, Blue Hole Hot Springs Command, former Lyran Commonwealth territory Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone  
  
February 27, 3052**  
  
Star Captain Ian slowed his Summoner to a crawl as he redirected his BattleMech's sophisticated sensors to another group of empty ponds. This is a waste of time! Ian raged. Let the solahmas handle this! They are nothing but cowards to hide in water...  
  
As he predicted, the Summoner's sensor array revealed nothing of significance. His starmates reported the same, with nearly the same hint of annoyance as he had. Ian let it slide this once. Falcons may have the reputation of being 'hotwinded' as one freebirth put it, but to complain to a superior was unbecoming of a Clan warrior.  
  
To his right, a sudden tremor disturbed the silken surface of a pond he had just scanned. Ian paid it no heed, his Clan's scientists had said there was plenty of volanic activity underneath the planet's surface. He registered another tremor, interrupting his orders to his star to form up. This time, his starmates caught the muted termors as well on their instruments.  
  
The radar lock warning tone came too late for the Star Captain to react, his massive Summoner was instantly covered with blossoming fire as a white and blue Javelin rose up from the depths of the pond he had dismissed. Armour shards flew away from the Summoner's turret-like torso as Ian struggled to bring his weapons to bear.  
  
Another missile salvo, this time to his rear arc, threw off his aim as he gouged sandrock with his PPC and exploded water with his own missiles. Laser fire followed in quickly, flash boiling more than a ton of protection from his Summoner's legs, nearly bringing his mighty warmachine to its knees.  
  
By the high pitched whine that filled his ears, Ian realized his starmates had already started returning fire. It was of little concern to the Star Captain, they were too far away to draw off pressure from him and he wanted the chance to punish these dezgra pilots. A Hunchback rose in front of him, still knee-deep in the water, letting loose with its arm lasers before bringing its rightly-feared large bore autocannon to bear.  
  
Dull bleating filled his ears as Ian pushed his Summoner to its top speed. A few shells slammed into his 'Mech's right arm but the rest trailed behind him, tracers skewering air. His return fire wasn't as ineffective, the Summoner's own autocannon spat out flechettes that worried the Hunchback's thick hide as his PPC drilled a hole into its centre torso. Ian grinned as the 50-ton 'Mech crumpled before him.  
  
Ian dashed quickly to his left, guessing correctly that the Javelin and Commando that assaulted him would team up. The missiles corkscrewed past his 70-ton OmniMech, obscuring his vision slightly as he let loose his own missile barrage. The Javelin staggered back as it caught the missile attack straight to its chest, its humanoid form struggling to remain standing. Contemptuously, he flung a charged bolt from his PPC and didn't bother to watch as the azure streak dissolved armour and fed on the JVN- 10N's missile reserves.  
  
Its explosion buffeted the lighter Commando with fire and debris, bringing it to its knees. Ian smirked at the pilot's audacity as the COM-2D propped itself up on one arm and fired all its weapons at his advancing OmniMech. The lasers found their mark, worrying the Summoner's thick leg plating but the Star Captain had no trouble sidestepping the SRM volley. He emerged in front of the contrails of smoke in front of the supplicant BattleMech.  
  
The autocannon's shrill scream filled Ian's ears as hundeds of small needles shredded the Commando's head piece by piece. A faint gust of red moments later told him of the pilot's fate.  
  
A warning klaxon drowned out the rest of the autocannon's roar. Instinctively, Ian slammed his feet on the foot pedals and jumped his Summoner to face his attacker. Behind, always from behind... cowardly surats! A few missiles managed to ping and worry his pristinely painted OmniMech and a pitiful laser blast dug into some fresh armour. But as he landed he worried less about the missile flight and more about the 100 tons of 'Mech charging his way.  
  
---  
  
**Geizhu Plains, Blue Hole Hot Springs Command, former Lyran Commonwealth territory Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone  
  
February 27, 3052**  
  
Nolan bit his lip as the Thor soared into the air gracefully, avoiding most of his LRM flight. He triggered his only energy weapon next, the Magna Mk III Heavy Laser pulsed red as it scored against the Thor's untouched left torso, flash-exploding painted composites. Neither were the main weapons on his Assault-class King Crab though many lighter machines had to make do with that arsenal, even less.  
  
The OmniMech coolly levelled its arms at him, spitting fire as they came to bear. Hauptmann Sundheim was already sidestepping the fire, never taking the Jade Falcon OmniMech from his sights as he ducked left then right to avoid the hellish Clan PPC and the flight of missiles. He smiled in admiration at the Clan warrior's self-control, not many would willingly stand toe-to-toe with a King Crab and its twin large-bore guns.  
  
Not bothering to read the range, Nolan thumbed his primary trigger and let himself drown in the furious roars of his 'Mech's Imperator-Ds. The Falcon tried to soar again, but Nolan had aimed high, dragging fire and rending armour as the Thor flew overhead. Flaming metal showered around him as one of the Thor's ammunition bays became prey to his devastating volley. He throttled his 'Mech down and quickly backpedalled to face the enemy.  
  
He wasn't surprised to see the Thor had landed on its feet, Clan warriors were supreme pilots no matter how many Mechwarriors deluded themselves into thinking they hid behind their technology. Nolan triggered another furious volley at the stunned Thor who replied meekly with its PPC. Armour blasted away from the Thor's legs and right arm, throwing off the Falcon's aim. A bright flash from the OmniMech's arm as the stream of shells blasted through the hexagonal pod arm into the weapon inside.  
  
Hauptmann Sundheim was just about to order the Falcon pilot to eject when radar-lock warnings echoed in his neurohelmet. A Vulture stood, scarred and battered, in front of a smoking hulk of what was a BattleMech. The hunched shoulders that gave it its nickname belched fire and smoke as it sent missiles hungrily to the KGC-0000's back. One of its arms hung limply against its side, but the other arm belched the sickening green pulses of Clan pulse lasers.  
  
Nolan couldn't accelerate in time, instead he twisted the King Crab's elongated torso and presented fresh armour to the attack. The feared large pulse laser found him first, boiling away a third of his right arm's protection in a blistering hiss. He felt a slight rumble as one or more shells being reloaded in the Imperator-D housed in his arm exploded, ruining the weapon entirely and shredding the arm from the inside out. A slight buzz forced itself on his consciousness as he felt the neural feedback seep in through his heavy neurohelmet.  
  
The King Crab stuttered at the sudden loss of its arm and swayed slightly but not enough to put it out of the missiles' path. Fire wreathed the 100-ton 'Mech, blasting thick chuncks from the machine's hide, as its pilot was thrust into unconsciousness from the ferocity of the attack. That the Vulture fell moments later as a Hunchback poured fire into the gaping holes in its beak-like torso did not matter. Nor did the utter elimination of all the Clan OmniMechs save for one mistaken to to be destroyed.  
  
When Hauptmann Nolan Sundheim awoke, a haughty severe face greeted him instead of the round and soft face of his wife he expected. The face smiled, its eyes a fierce gray and Nolan felt dismay as it spoke.  
  
"Greetings, bondsman. You are the property of Clan Jade Falcon." The face stopped speaking for a moment. "Resist, struggle, or disobey, and you will die."  
  
He raised his arms to his face and saw the bondcord on his wrist, a severe white to his pale skin. He clenched his fists then and screamed, "Kiss my as-!"  
  
The deep throb of a laser pistol silenced the bondsman.

Sorry about the formatting folks, but seems determined to mess it up.


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